


out of reach of rain

by statistisk



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Datekou, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-26
Updated: 2015-05-26
Packaged: 2018-04-01 00:12:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3998557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/statistisk/pseuds/statistisk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>Futakuchi tugs on his sleeve. “Hey, Aone,” he says, pointing at a blurry shape rounding the corner of the gymnasium. "Are you seeing what I'm seeing?"</p>
  <p>“Person,” Aone says.</p>
  <p>"Umbrella,” Futakuchi says. “Let’s borrow it. You stand there and look scary, and I’ll take care of the—”</p>
  <p>Aone raises a hand like he’s going to push Futakuchi back into the rain, and Futakuchi backs up a couple of steps on the stairs.</p>
  <p>“I’m kidding! Geez.”</p>
</blockquote>
            </blockquote>





	out of reach of rain

**Author's Note:**

> Datekou Week day 2: second years / weather. Set right after Futakuchi takes over as captain.

Today's match was a minor practice match and no one was cheering, but Aone still hears the familiar chant of  _Go, go, let’s go, let’s go, Datekou_  echoing in his mind through the pattering of rain hitting the overhang above their heads.

They lost today.

They'll win next time.

He wants to say as much, to Futakuchi sitting a little lower than him on the steps outside their clubroom building, but something in Futakuchi’s posture makes it difficult to break the silence—head resting on arms folded over his knees, shoulders hunched and face hidden—and Aone’s never been big on talking in the first place. So he keeps his mouth closed, the way he prefers, and only says it in his head a few times.  _We'll win next time._ The rain picks up strength, and Aone figures it's in encouragement, something like applause.

Futakuchi lifts his head at the increased noise. It’s the first time he’s moved in five minutes.

_We’ll win next time_ , Aone repeats to himself, but nothing happens this time. The rain continues pelting down same as before and Futakuchi doesn't move.

Aone tries to think of something to do instead of something to say, and eventually his eyes land on Futakuchi’s bag. Futakuchi twists around as Aone reaches down and pulls it into his lap, beginning to look through the outer pockets.

“Oi.”

Aone nods to himself as the silence finally seeps from the air around them. The sound of the rain comes through just a little louder, the erratic rhythm of it hitting the overhang reminding him of that day Kamasaki and Sasaya tried to get on Moniwa’s nerves by doing the  _Let’s go, Datekou_  chant with an uneven backup drumming of fingertips against metal lockers. It was the week before the Inter-High began. Moniwa joined in.

It’s a good memory.

“That’s my bag,” Futakuchi points out after a beat of narrow-eyed confusion, but he doesn’t try to take it back. “Where’s your respect for personal belongings and privacy, huh? Or if you’re going to steal from me, you could at least be sneaky about it.”

Aone proceeds to the main section of the bag, because he can’t find what he’s looking for in any of the pockets.

“I really don’t have an umbrella? By the way, can you believe Koganegawa refusing to give me his? And then he went and shared with Sakunami, what a brat. And Obara was  _laughing_ , like what did I ever do to him? Seriously.”

Aone chooses not to remind him that Futakuchi himself was the one who insisted, in the end, to give up his spot beneath a shared umbrella when both Obara and Onagawa offered to give up theirs. Instead he holds out a brightly coloured plastic bag, unearthed after a brief struggle with several tangled shirts.

Futakuchi stares.

“Here,” Aone says.

The plastic crackles when the bag exchanges hands, and Futakuchi scrunches his brow as he opens it, picking out a yellow gummy and putting it in his mouth.

“Thanks?” he says uncertainly while chewing. “No, wait, I bought these? They’re mine.”

Aone makes a small noise of agreement; they are Futakuchi’s sour gummies.

“Uh… you want some?”

Aone shakes his head, and Futakuchi shrugs, popping another gummy in his mouth and untwisting his torso to face forwards again. After a moment he stands up, climbs the couple of steps to where Aone’s sitting, and plops down next to him. He holds out the gummies again.

“Sure you don’t want any?”

“You eat them,” Aone says.

“Fine, but don’t think I can’t see what you’re up to,” Futakuchi says, putting three gummies in his mouth at once.

Even Aone isn’t completely sure what he’s up to, but he supposes he wouldn’t put it past Futakuchi to see through him anyway.

“You want to see me suffer at the dentist’s,” Futakuchi continues, and Aone feels himself smile a little. An answering smile spreads across Futakuchi’s face, a little lopsided and instantly broader than anything Aone can pull off. “Ha,” Futakuchi says. “Look at you smirking.” (Aone’s sure he’s never smirked in his life.) “But unfortunately for your evil scheme, I brush my teeth  _very_  well.”

Still smiling minutely, Aone nudges the bag of gummies to make Futakuchi take another. Futakuchi shakes out five.

“You’re a bad influence,” Futakuchi says, sounding pleased. He keeps the conversation going single-handedly for a while, and Aone likes that—how whether he speaks or not has no impact on the general life expectancy of their interactions. But after a while Futakuchi trails off in the middle of a sentence that hadn’t really made much sense to begin with, and it’s quiet again for a minute, both of them watching the rain rushing directly from the clouds to the ground. 

“Hey, Aone.”

Aone nods to show he's listening.

“Do you think I’m…” Futakuchi trails off again, and then he shakes his head and breathes a kind of laugh. “Hey, Aone,” he starts over. “I don’t think this rain is going to stop.”

Aone grunts. He doesn’t think so either.

“Any chance your father’s home by now?”

Aone shakes his head.

“Yeah, not my parents either.”

There’s another brief silence as they weigh their options, rain pattering insistently against the roof over their heads.

“Go, go, let’s go,” Futakuchi mutters eventually, under his breath. Aone looks at him. “What do you say?” Futakuchi asks, stuffing the bag of sour gummies, half-empty now, in his pocket. “On three?”

“Okay,” Aone says.

Futakuchi meets his eye and smirks like they’ve just finalised some devious plan. “Okay then. One, two.” They stand up, pick up their bags, walk to the last step. “Three.”

It’s a bit like stepping into a cold shower. A brief one, as Aone finds himself almost immediately pulled back under cover by a slightly gasping Futakuchi.

“Koganegawa!” he shouts. “Sakunami, Onagawa, Obara! Everyone with umbrellas go to h—”

Aone pushes Futakuchi back outside the reach of the overhang, and Futakuchi turns to splutter wordlessly at him through the shimmering curtain of rain.

“Run,” Aone tells him, but Futakuchi jumps back into safety again, scrubbing a hand through his hair. A few droplets fly out when he ruffles it.

“I don’t deserve this,” he says. “I’ve done nothing wrong.”

Aone is pretty sure that last part isn’t one hundred percent true—right off the top of his head he remembers Futakuchi once drinking Moniwa’s orange juice and then pinning the crime on Kamasaki—and in any case a run through the rain isn’t such a terrible punishment, really, but he knows well enough that Futakuchi is no great fan of reason during times like these, so he lets it slide.

Futakuchi tugs on his sleeve. “Hey, Aone,” he says, pointing at a blurry shape rounding the corner of the gymnasium. "Are you seeing what I'm seeing?"

“Person,” Aone says.

“Umbrella,” Futakuchi says. “Let’s borrow it. You stand there and look scary, and I’ll take care of the—”

Aone raises a hand like he’s going to push Futakuchi back into the rain, and Futakuchi backs up a couple of steps on the stairs.

“I’m kidding! Geez.” He looks back towards the person with the umbrella, and his mouth falls open a bit. Aone looks back as well.

It’s Obara.

“Hey guys,” he says once he’s within hearing distance, skipping over a puddle and joining them on the steps. He spins his umbrella around a bit, sending droplets flying off the ribs. Aone wipes water from his forehead. Futakuchi complains behind him.

“Sorry, Aone,” Obara says.

Futakuchi comes back down to stand only one step higher than Obara and Aone, narrowing his eyes and sounding kind of sullen when he asks, “What are you doing here?”  

“Enjoying the fine weather,” Obara responds lightly. “What are  _you_  still doing here? It’s been what, half an hour?”

"Two hours," Futakuchi says.

It's been twenty minutes, tops, but Aone doesn't correct either of them.

"Seriously, did you come to gloat?" Futakuchi asks. "Spin your pretty umbrella in our faces? Did I do something to you?"

Obara closes his umbrella and puts it down so he can swing a small backpack off his shoulder. He pulls out two small fold-up umbrellas. "My mum said it'll probably rain like this all night, so I've come to your rescue, Captain, in case you were still stuck here." He hands one of the umbrellas to Futakuchi, who takes it, looking almost contrite. "To be honest I really came to save  _you_ ," Obara adds in a stage whisper, turning to Aone. "I know you're only still here because you're too nice to abandon this loser."

Aone accepts the other umbrella, nodding thanks. Obara uses his freed up hands to fish his phone out of his pocket.

“Okay, now let me just report back to Onagawa…” He starts mouthing words as he types, “Mission… Save Aone... From Extended... Quality Time… With... Fu...ta...ku...chi… accomplished.” He looks it over, nods. “And send.”

Futakuchi huffs.

“So,” Obara says. “What do you say, Captain? Let's go."

Futakuchi turns his face away. "Stop that."

"Stop what, Captain?"

"Stop  _that_."

"Captain," Aone says.

Futakuchi goes very quiet, his head still turned. Today is kind of a strange day, Aone thinks. Futakuchi probably hasn't spent so much time shutting up since he learned how to talk.

Obara laughs a little, clapping first Aone and then Futakuchi on the shoulder before he reopens his umbrella and walks into the rain again. After a few steps he stops and yells over his shoulder, "Come on! Go, go, let's go!"

“This jerk’s acting like  _he’s_  captain,” Futakuchi says. He's turned his head back enough for Aone to see his face again, but his expression is that hard-to-read kind, so Aone shifts his attention to the umbrella in his hands instead. While a nondescript black on the outside, it unfolds to reveal a light blue underside. Futakuchi snorts next to him, having unfolded his own umbrella to a smattering of stars on a deep blue backdrop, but he doesn’t comment on it. Aone guesses he likes it.

“Say, Aone,” Futakuchi says, looking up at the stars in his sky. “What do you think?”

Somehow Aone feels like he knows what he’s asking despite the ambiguity of the question, but he waits to answer just in case. Eventually Futakuchi draws a breath and rephrases.

“Do you think I can do this?”

“We,” Aone says, “can.”

A slow smile spreads across Futakuchi’s face. “Ah,” he says. “That’s right.”

“Let’s gooo!” Obara yells from where he stands waiting for them. “Go, go, let’s go!”

“Yeah,” Futakuchi says, and his voice, which had been sort of quiet before, is back to its typical volume now, loud enough to carry easily to where Obara is standing.

“Let’s go, Datekou.”

**Author's Note:**

> I actually finished a piece for a day in a fandom week I can't believe. 
> 
> I wanted to include the other second years as well, but I didn't have time. They are there though... in the planning stages... in spirit...


End file.
